


Spätzünder

by InsertSthMeaningful



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Charles Xavier Always Says the Absolute Worst Thing He Could Possibly Say, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Coming of Age, Enemies to Lovers, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Fluff and Angst, Human!Charles, M/M, mutants in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 01:57:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21384202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertSthMeaningful/pseuds/InsertSthMeaningful
Summary: Erik doesn’t like Charles Xavier. Not one bit. Not his impeccable mannerisms, not his spotless clothes, not his winning smile. Or how the human likes to curry favor with literally every mutant or other member of oppressed minorities he encounters.Still, there is something about his fellow college student that intrigues Erik. Makes him want to push the boy, tear down his arguments, and, just to shut him up, kiss his cherry red-Oh.Maybe falling for a human isn’t that bad. Certainly worth a try. Especially since Xavier doesn’t seem to be averse to the idea himself.But months later, things change. Or rather, a certain someone does. And nothing is ever going to be the same.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 154





	Spätzünder

**Author's Note:**

> Nearly forgot I hadn't posted this yet, so yes, it's been lurking in the Cherik folder for two or three months now. Beta-read by the brilliant flightinflame (thank you so much!).  
Enjoy!

The very first time Erik laid eyes upon Charles Xavier, he felt disgust settle in the pit of his stomach. 

Because Charles was the kind of kid Erik hated seeing in the city’s public college, in this rundown place with its own mutant help group and occasional heart-warming dance evenings. In Erik’s territory. In the building Erik and so many other mutants called home, because it was the only place offering them a community which readily accepted all of them, unconditionally. 

And Charles looked all like the rich spoiled human brat unwilling to let them have this, in his neatly pressed wool cardigans, with his ridiculous upper-class Brit accent and unnervingly good looks. And obviously not a shred of a mutant gene in him, as his college enrollment papers with a fat red B for baseline stamped onto them suggested. 

All this registered in Erik’s mind as he walked up to the row of lockers before his first lesson and caught sight of the short brunet who already seemed to be deep in conversation with Moira McTaggert, the doe-eyed girl Erik was in Applied Ethics with. For a human, she was alright. 

But she was also overly emotional. Shortly after her run-in with the “cute new geek”, she was gushing to Erik (who had artfully ignored said geek) about Xavier’s honey-and-cream last name (who the hell was called  _ Xavier _ anyway?), about his impeccable manners… and how he had chosen the same ethics lecture as  _ them _ , Moira and Erik. 

Oh, great. Erik was so not looking forward to those hours. 

And later, when Moira casually mentioned that Xavier’s locker seemed to be just next to his, he felt like having a spontaneous aneurysm right then and there. 

* 

The second time Erik saw Xavier, just before the first lecture on a Wednesday, he felt less unwilling though. More surprised, if he had to be honest, because he would have expected the human to run away screaming (or at least flinch just a little bit) when he unlocked his locker with his powers directly next to Xavier’s face and used considerably more force in the process than actually needed (the door may have actually left a dent in its neighbor, but eh, things like these were no problem for Erik to smooth out). 

Through the grapevine, he’d heard of the Xavier heir’s tragic fate. Charles hadn’t actually lowered himself amidst the ordinary rabble by choice but had had to apply to the relatively cheap public college because he and his mother just couldn’t afford any better at the moment. 

Erik tried, and he tried hard, to ignore that their shortage of money came from their risky flight from an abusive husband slash stepfather. And that Sharon Xavier would have to go through a lengthy and emotionally consumptive Rosenkrieg before having access to her and her son’s not-emergency bank accounts again. 

That information just wasn’t any good to fuel Erik’s antipathy towards Xavier. 

The human openly beaming with delight at Erik’s open display of power didn’t exactly help the matter either. Or that the ear-raping bang of metal on metal, locker door on locker door, didn’t really impress him much, and that Erik casually continuing to toy with the spine of his spiral notebook while shoving his papers into his bag made his eyes light up. And finally, when he spoke to Erik (he’d luckily waited until the mutant had his stuff already packed and ready to go), even though the latter had his best Leave Me The Fuck Alone Or I’ll Fuck You Up™ face put on, his utter lack of self-preservation with probably a splash of insanity was forever confirmed in Erik’s mind. 

“Hello, I’m Charles Xavier. You must be the infamous Erik Lehnsherr, I’ve heard so much about you already! Nice to finally meet you!” With that, Xavier actually stuck out his hand for a formal greeting like the spoiled rich twit he obviously was, like they were at some loaded bourgeois’ tea party and not in the slightly grubby hallway of a public college. 

“Die Freude ist ganz meinerseits,” Erik mumbled without looking at Xavier’s outstretched hand and dripping as much sarcasm in his words as possible. Then, he grabbed his backpack’s straps, ready to head to class. But something held him there, wanting to see the other man’s reaction (he pretended it was just curiosity and not genuine interest). 

Oh, but how oblivious that Charles kid was to all the non-verbal threats. After some awkward seconds in which Erik clearly refused to shake the offered hand, he simply took it back, kept smiling like an idiot and, in all seriousness, tried to start a conversation. 

“Oh, you speak German, too? Wait, let me guess: bilingual upbringing because of your parents.” 

Erik gave a grunt in response and traced his locker door’s minuscule indentions only he could feel, carefully levelling them out. 

“That’s brilliant! It must be so nice to be a mutant, and a bilingual on top!” 

“Not as nice as you think it is.” 

Confusion crossed Xavier’s face. “But... why? I heard bilinguals learn a new language much easier than- “ 

For fuck’s sake, Erik felt his wafer-thin patience already dissipating like mist in the morning sun. “No. I was talking about having a mutation.” 

The confusion intensified. “But you seem so at ease with it. Really, it’s amazing to watch you and the others integrate it so seamlessly into your daily life.” Why did Erik only now notice that Xavier’s eyes were a faint, washed-out blue? “Of course, you have to, I mean, it’s been a part of you since… Uh, when is it that mutants express again?” 

“Early teenage years usually, sometimes even before that,” Erik answered automatically, the words drilled into his brain since he’d learned to stand up for his cause. 

“That’s all so interesting!” Charles had been fumbling around aimlessly with his notebook all the time, Erik noted. That man just screamed chaotic good. 

So, the next words Xavier dropped like a bombshell on him came as quite a surprise. “Do you think I could maybe drop by your mutant help group sometime later this week?” 

Um, what? 

“Uh, no?” The audacity. How dare he, a baseline human who obviously slapped his naiveté in  _ every-fuckin-body’s face _ , ask to be part of a community he didn’t belong one bit to? 

This called, no,  _ screamed _ for one of Erik’s Passive-Aggressive Pro Mutant Rights Rants™. 

“Err, I just wanted to ask if maybe you could use some help, maybe an outsider’s view on mutant activism-“ 

“I think the fuck not,” Erik interrupted Xavier’s embarrassed rambling, barely keeping his voice down. “I don’t think we need your damned help in affairs in which you, an obviously endlessly naïve basic individual, a mere  _ human _ , have no fucking business. Hell, mutants aren’t some kind of pet zoo you can visit just because your spoiled rich ass feels like it needs some kind of sick entertainment! We’ve got enough problems as it is-” 

“Beg your pardon, but I don’t think you quite see my point.” Xavier had straightened up to his full height (which admittedly wasn’t much) and was now facing Erik, his body language open but his gleaming eyes betraying how he most probably felt: just a tad bit pissed off. And ready to defend his position. “Look, Erik, I wasn’t asking to just breeze in like that and then leave again,  _ I actually want to help you _ and the other mutants in this college, or rather, in the whole world. I want to change something,  _ for you _ . From personal experience, I know that in such delicate matters as mutant politics, two or more points of view are usually needed to bring satisfying results. And I, neither a mutant nor a mutantphobic, would very much like to stand up for your interests. In order to make the world a-” 

“A better place?” Erik sneered and leaned back against his locker, his arms crossed. “Then you should just shut up for a minute and listen to my opinion,  _ Xavier _ .” 

The addressed mirrored Erik’s stance, lacing his arms together defensively, a frown making its way onto his face. 

Seconds passed. 

Then, quirking his lips in a daring smile, Charles spoke, “Alright. One minute it is.” 

And that’s how Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr had their first debate. 

Of course, it took more than just one minute of trading arguments heatedly (in Erik’s case) or with calm precision (in Charles’ case) to come to a rickety armistice. 

After they’d parted ways to sprint to their respective lecture halls, Erik’s mind was running a mile a minute. This Xavier kid was less blue-eyed than he’d thought, he even had some pretty clear ideas and opinions on mutant rights and laws which didn’t diverge much from Erik’s. But oh, he still had so much to learn. And one hell of a huge potential to do just so. 

That was why Erik was waiting nervously for next Thursday evening, for the next assembly of the college’s mutant help group… to which he had begrudgingly, but not without curiosity, invited Charles Xavier. 

*

To his surprise, the meeting went by better than expected. 

After Xavier had explained to the group of mutants, all seated at the tables in the otherwise empty cafeteria, why he was there and in which ways he intended to help, the sceptical murmurs had quickly subsided. Then, the coming-together had taken its usual course. Discussing mutantphobic remarks from fellow students quickly led to amusing stories of incidents in the college sports lessons, and soon, they stopped chatting to listen to Hank talk about their friendly correspondence with other mutant organizations from all over the state. Emma informed everybody about an upcoming Mutant Pride March, which quickly dissolved the assembly into smaller groups planning the slogans, the flyers and the banners as well as a little speech. 

In the meantime, Xavier had obviously been adopted by Raven and Irene and gotten sandwiched between the mutant couple. When Erik wandered over to their table (the one organizing the informational speech for the public), the human was deep in conversation with the seer while the shapeshifter was ruffling his hair, grinning as though she had just received a puppy for Christmas. 

“Hey sharkface,” she called out to Erik, “Why didn’t you bring this squishy sweetie pie along sooner?” 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a girlfriend, Raven, in case you forgot.” 

“Why do you guys always have to sexualize a perfectly normal friendship between two members of the opposite sex? Also, Charles is really a very useful human ally, he’s already written two thirds of our speech and told me what conditioner he’s using.” Raven grinned, white teeth a stark contrast against her deep velvet blue skin. 

“’Human ally’.” Xavier giggled (oh Gott, he  _ actually giggled _ ). “You make it sound like you’re some weird extraterrestrial alien race or such.” 

“No, please, don’t give her a reason to turn into one of those slimy things!” Irene gave the human a fond smile. “She once did it in bed and even though I’m blind I was traumatized for at least a month.” 

“Alright, we’re here to organize a demonstration so we can inform humans and mutants alike,  _ not _ to hear about your sex life,” Erik quickly intervened, ignoring Raven’s muttered “Killjoy”. “What have you got so far?” He pulled out a chair to flop down on it. 

Too late did he realize that he was now seated directly opposite Xavier. 

Speak of the devil. “Well, so far,” the human started, “we’ve written down some of the daily discrimination mutants have to endure at school – even from the teachers, which I think is a major problem – as well as some solutions to just those problems. Then, we were thinking about me interrogating some other baseline humans about their opinion on you and your tendency to form segregated groups-” 

“And what would be the actual benefit of that?” Erik barged in. ‘Segregated groups’, really? 

Charles shot him a slightly dirty look. “If you could refrain from interrupting me, Erik, you wouldn’t have to ask me this kind of questions in the first place.” 

“Oh,  _ burrrn _ ,” Erik heard Raven whisper gleefully. Irene just shook her head and let out a quiet “Oh no” full of foreboding. 

“Alright, continue your train of thoughts,  _ Charles _ . Indulge us.” He leaned back, shooting the other man his widest grin. “But don’t think I won’t criticize when appropriate.” 

For a very short instant, Xavier wore the expression of someone who had just unexpectedly bitten into a lemon. Then, his features smoothed out and he gave Erik an inviting smile, the challenge clear as day in his pale blue eyes. 

“Well then… Do your worst.” 

They managed not to slither into more than three full-grown debates that evening. And when the group of three dozen mutants and one human finally parted ways, they had a seamless plan for the Mutant Pride March, an impeccable speech and three new approaches on how to inform the baseline humans about mutant activism stowed away in their communal google drive. Things had gone smoother than expected, notably thanks to Xavier’s inputs. 

Of course, Erik only admitted this reluctantly, and only to himself. After all, the whole ‘human ally’ business could still blow up, and spectacularly at that. 

(To everybody’s surprise, it  _ did _ blow up quite some months later. But not in the way they expected it to.) 

*

The third time Erik ran into Charles during regular college hours was in their shared ethics class and no longer a burden to him. He even admitted (but only to himself, as usual) that he might have begun to look forward to their intellectual bickering. Maybe. Just a little bit. 

So, he was quite delighted when exactly five seconds after the lecture had started, a slightly dishevelled Charles Xavier sneaked through the classroom’s door, artfully avoided their professor’s reprimanding glare and slumped down in the seat next to Erik’s. 

Not much time passed until the human leaned over, seemingly oblivious to the lecture they both would miss if they started chatting now. Or even worse: arguing about you-know-what. Erik was just about to point this out to Xavier when he became aware of the unusually serious expression the other man was wearing. Or of the nervous blush so intense it was disappearing under his button-down collar. 

Or of the way he licked his lips, very obviously an unconscious action, but still somehow…  _ taunting _ . 

Sometimes life just wasn’t fair to Erik. 

“Uh. Erik?” Xavier interrupted his thoughts. Turning his gaze away from the human’s face and back on the teacher to at least  _ look _ like he was paying attention to all the theoretical prattling, Erik gave an affirmative nod. He was listening. 

Xavier continued. “Hi.” 

Well, Erik hadn’t been prepared for that kind of…  _ dullness _ . Had Xavier’s brain suddenly turned to mush or something? He turned back around, ready to see Charles’ face when he would start mocking him for the slip-up, but the other man was already whispering at him again, never quite meeting Erik’s eyes. Speedy recovery apparently. 

“Well. Err, I’m really very sorry and, uh, this might feel like a bit of an assault right now, but I really have to ask this now because later I won’t have the guts to and also I hear that you really swing both ways so I might just take my chance now and, uh.” 

Erik frowned. He honestly  _ had _ to admit that his brain was having some trouble holding up with Xavier’s speed of speech. But really, it didn’t seem like much sense could be made of the man’s rambling. 

Nevertheless, the human powered through his little brain freeze, then tried again. 

“Where was I? Sorry, I’m quite a tad bit nervous right now, um, so, do you, err, would you want to, well, it would be nice to-“ and there he broke off to take a deep breath, then resumed his train wreck of a sentence-” maybe someday get coffee together? Like, sometime after classes? And talk about things and… mutant politics? Only if you want to, of course, if you’d like to.” 

Erik stared. 

“Uh, because  _ I _ ’d really very much like to…” Charles added feebly, his voice so low at the end that Erik almost didn’t catch what he said. 

Erik stared some more. 

Then, when Xavier-  _ Charles  _ was already beginning to fiddle with a loose thread on his button-down shirt, he sat up a bit straighter and finally spat out, “Did you just… ask me out? Like, on a date?” 

Charles let out what sounded like a gerbil’s squeak, then, mortified, covered his mouth quickly and looked around to see if anyone else had heard. 

Unbelievably, no one had, so he turned back to Erik. “Yes? I think I did.” 

Erik nodded until his tongue finally caught up with his thoughts. “Yes. Uh, I mean, of course, I’d like to. Talking about mutant politics and college and stuff… I like that.” 

“You do? Oh my- You actually said yes?” Charles had blushed even harder, if that was scientifically possible, and was clearly fighting a coy grin from spreading all over his face. “You won’t believe what a scary look you just had on your face there, my friend, I thought my last moments had finally come. Brilliant, so, what time shall we go out? And where? I do know a nice little coffee shop down the street, far less expensive than Starbucks and-”

“Yes,” Erik interrupted, smiling in what he hoped was both a calming and seductive manner (if that was even manageable, with his teeth). “Yes, Charles, just shut up. I consent to anything.” 

“Anything?” Now the other man was wiggling his eyebrows, his light blue eyes sparkling. 

Erik shot him his best shark grin. 

“Anything.” 

*

From then on, things went pretty fast. 

They did indeed go to the coffee shop together, even managed to survive a few minutes of quite successful small talk. 

Soon enough though, they drifted off into the vast topic of mutants and their integration in society (because what other direction could their conversation possibly have taken?), resulting in both being kicked out of the café, in front of which they then proceeded to have their very first and rather angry kiss. 

Yes, things were going well. Erik took Charles to meet his dear mother Edie who cooed over them and coerced the Xavier heir into accepting a second helping of her chanterelle ragout because “poor boy, you’ll need the extra energy to put up with my ever so grumpy Erik, nicht wahr, Söhnchen?” And finally, Sharon Xavier - still occupied with her divorce - managed to scrape together a morsel of time as well. Though she didn’t seem to take a particular liking to Erik and remained distant throughout the whole of the ten minutes they spent drinking tea in the Xaviers' living room, the meeting could have ended worse, as Charles informed him afterwards. “Just be happy she didn’t get up after two minutes to refine her cuppa with a splash of her favourite cognac. She must have been interested in you a tiny bit after all.” 

Alright. Maybe  _ some things _ could have gone better. But where would be the fun in that? And to be honest, Erik was content with the latest developments and just life in general. As was Charles, going by his wide smile every time he met the other man’s eyes (okay, him going “I’ve never ever been happier in my whole life than right now” every once in a while might have been an indicator, too). 

Oh yes.  _ Things _ were going  _ super well _ . 

*

However, as it goes in life,  _ things _ are also prone to take unexpected turns. Which indeed they did after the first semester of the school year. On a crisp winter’s afternoon during an Applied Ethics lecture, to be precise. 

Mr. Howlett was rattling on about the Dos and Don’ts when doing research, surveys and experiments. Charles was sitting a few feet from Erik at a table near the window from which one had a spectacularly dull view onto a small, gray side street. And Erik himself was staring at the back of his boyfriend’s head (Raven was right, his conditioner  _ had _ to be made from unicorn spit), once again coming to terms with having stumbled into a human-mutant relationship. 

Well, thinking about it that way  _ did _ sound worse than it was, really. Charles was an overly decent, outrageously polite and unbelievably helpful person. Shortly after he’d established himself definitively as the Mutant Help Group’s human ally, Erik had found out that the persistent man was actually active in an LGBTQ+ organization, in a help group for POC and in a charity for disabled persons, and that he regularly donated to a fund for the homeless,  _ and _ that every once in a while he visited WWF assemblies… and the list went on. Charles also was the worst and most endearing cook ever in existence (as making breakfast after a quite  _ exciting  _ (yes, they fucked) sleepover at Erik’s had sufficiently proven) and he hated horror movies with a passion (“But whyyy?” he would whine every time Erik pulled him down onto the couch in order to watch yet another blood-curdling version of Dumb People Getting Themselves Killed By Ghosts/Bugs/Other Supernatural CGI Stuff). 

Creepy cinematic bullshit was a  _ very  _ effective way of getting Charles to cuddle, Erik had learned, so why not apply his knowledge? 

Oh, and then there was another thing: Charles was quite madly in love with Erik, or so he would confess regularly, no matter their current activity or situation. And of course, Erik would always say it right back. Honestly, how could he not? It was  _ Charles _ he was talking- no, thinking about. 

He’d once asked Charles how he managed to be so kind and accepting of everyone and everything. The answer had been a coy smile and a mumbled “How could I not? My dad taught me to see the good in everyone and everything. Even in the bad.” Erik had steered the conversation in the direction of Charles’ father, then. But Charles’ answer never quite left him, and that was a good thing. 

In conclusion, loving and being loved by a human wasn’t so bad after all. Erik had even begun to try and reprogram his subconscious into adopting the idea that, in fact, a person wasn’t solely defined by their mutation, but first and foremost by their character. 

Charles, of course, agreed wholeheartedly. The sly little bastard. 

And just that sly little bastard seemed oddly transfixed by something on the other side of the window he was sitting at. Erik frowned. 

“Let’s take Mendel’s laws as an example,” Mr. Howlett was half-shouting, once again absentmindedly polishing his claws with a handkerchief while addressing his students. “Anybody interested in genetics should know ‘em: The law of uniformity, the law of independent disjunction of the characters, etc. And Mendel, the smooth bast-  _ monk _ that he was, derived all of ‘em from simple observations of peas. Peas, kiddos!” He passed his unlit cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. “But here comes the bad news: The ass- the  _ inappropriate word _ I’m not allowed to say in front of you, he ignored the results that didn’t match his damned laws! So, it’s only thanks to the glorious  _ Thomas Morgan Hunt _ that today, we know about genetically linked genes!” Mr. Howlett stalked over to his laptop to pull up a Wikipedia page and projected it onto the whiteboard. “Hunt did what Mendel was too lazy to do. He proved Mendel’s laws wrong, or at least a part of ’em. And what do we learn from this story, kiddos? Never  _ ever _ trust anybody’s experiments and data, and  _ always _ do your own research! Trust me, the only person you can trust is yourselves. And now, before I give to you the subject for your next project, I’m gonna ask a question that’s been bugging me since I started this whole monologue…” 

Slowly, the teacher took the cigar from his mouth, carefully placed it back in its worn-down case and then put his hands on both sides of his lectern, leaning forward heavily. Suddenly, he looked far less like a friendly, pally teacher, and much more like a stern professor in a very bad mood. 

His eyes wandered over the rows of his students until they came to a rest on Charles. 

Ah, shit. 

Erik swallowed. 

“Xavier, my man! Why, oh why have you been staring out of that window for the last half an hour when your grades not only depend on your work, but also on my goodwill?” 

Charles didn’t turn from the window to give his fuming teacher his infamous puppy dog eyes (at least that was what Erik would have expected him to do). Hell, he didn’t even flinch at the mention of his name. Just sat there and stared out of that window. 

“Hey, Chuck! You hear me?” Mr. Howlett frowned and stood up to his full height (not overly intimidating if one considered his not so generous 5’3’’). He crossed his arms, which, Erik knew from experience, never was a good sign. Actually, it was a very bad sign. “Mr. Charles Xavier, I would be unimaginably pleased if you even so much as acknowledged- “ 

Erik had already seen Charles have other completely inexplicable and most definitely suicidal spurs of the moment in the past, but straight-up ignoring a teacher’s call was something entirely else. So, he got up, effectively cutting off Mr. Howlett. Once again had come the time, it seemed, to save his handsome albeit sometimes endlessly stupid boyfriend from getting into a hell of a lot of trouble. 

“Yeah, you go handle this, lover boy,” Mr. Howlett grumbled when he saw Erik make his way over to the window. Everyone else sat silent, obviously soaking up the tea of drama like sponges. 

He towered over Charles and placed a hand on his shoulder without the human showing any reaction at all. But before Erik could shake him to make sure his boyfriend hadn’t turned into a vegetable, he glimpsed out the window and saw what Charles had been looking at all the time. 

Erik did  _ not _ like it,  _ not one bit _ , because it made his blood run cold. 

There, on the pavement only two stories below, three men or women or whatever in black clothing stood, apparently having some kind of a face-off, two against one. The cliché gang-before-a-fight scene that looked like it was taken straight out of a cheap movie would have been funny to look at, were it not for the heavy hostility permeating the air, filtering in through the glass. Why did no one else in the classroom feel what was going on? How had no one noticed? 

Shit, this was serious, and real. No wonder Charles was so interested in the view. He should probably tell Mr. Howlett what was going on- 

Erik took a step back, let his hand slide off Charles’ shoulder, and the feeling of impending doom and bubbling anger vanished. Now that was weird. Looking back at the situation on the street, there didn’t seem to be much actual drama going on. Just three guys having a harmless argument. 

So, the situation wasn’t close to escalating, and the lecture had to go on. Erik turned to snap his fingers in front of Charles’ face and whisper-yelled, “Charles, Schatz, you’re disturbing the- “ 

Something wet, small and glistening red splashed onto Charles’ table. A drop of blood. 

“Scheisse!” With one hand, Erik frantically began to dig for a clean Kleenex in his pockets, the other was occupied with clutching Charles’ cheek, trying to bring them face to face. Something was wrong, very wrong. Blood continued to drip sluggishly from Charles’ nose, crawling over his lips and chin in small rivulets, but his eyes remained foggy like frosted glass. 

At the sight, a collective gasp filled the room, then everyone broke out into frantic movements. 

“What the hell is going on?” Mr. Howlett demanded, at their side in a matter of seconds. 

“Nosebleed, and he won’t talk to me.” Erik scowled. “Doesn’t even look at me, just keeps staring at those kids outside.” 

“Could be a small gang fight. They’re shouting at each other, I think.” Moira had come to Erik’s other side and was gazing out of that damned window, too. Finally, Erik whipped out a handkerchief and shoved it under Charles’ nose. 

Logan squinted. “Hold up. The one in the black hood, in his hand. Is that a- “ 

Everything went very fast. The person aggressively shaking a fist at the other two took one step towards them, one step too much, obviously, because the hooded one was at their throat immediately, wielding a knife out of nowhere. Students were shrieking, Mr. Howlett was cursing, already on his way to the door, when Charles finally,  _ finally _ opened his mouth and screamed “Everybody stop moving!” with his posh, shaking voice. 

Except that no, Erik was wrong. Charles’ lips hadn’t even twitched. 

He had spoken directly in everyone’s thoughts. 

Everybody froze. Mr. Howlett, his hand on the doorknob. Moira, pushing open the window. The three figures having a showdown in the middle of the street. The handkerchief slid out of Erik’s petrified grasp, brushing and staining Charles’ cloud grey cardigan as it fell. And when Erik thought,  _ Mother is going to murder me for this _ , without  _ him _ actually doing the thinking, he knew he wasn’t alone in his head anymore. 

God bless Emma for teaching him the basics of telepathic communication. 

Fighting against the second-hand urge to throw up and the all-drowning horror that definitely wasn’t his either, he imagined a notebook and a pencil and very carefully spelt out,  _ You have to let go of us _ . 

A response, grainy like a bad radio signal, got thrown back at him immediately.  _ Erik – is that you? – feel like throwing up - ??? – what am I doing what’s happening what’s going on – Erik – Sian is going to stab Tyler if he doesn’t leave her best friend alone she’s the one with the knife so scared – everybody STAY STILL – Erik  _

What a mess Charles’ thoughts were. Erik had expected them to be like one of those big antique commodes, drawers, labels, all neatly sorted. Instead, he got this tangle of… everything imaginable and unimaginable. 

Well, you never stop getting to know a person. 

His mind was a magnet. Charles’ attention was metal.  _ Focus. Focus on me, Charles. Let go of the others except for the three on the street and focus on me, Charles. Come to me, Charles. I’m a safe place, Charles.  _

_ Erik (mein Erlkönig) – I can’t do this – you’re cosy – going to keep hold of Tyler, Sian, Ben – my brain hurts  _

_ Do it. You’re strong. _ Great. Erik was getting a headache.  _ Help is on its way.  _

Indeed, it was. The first few students having gotten back in control of their limbs were stumbling out of the room, retching and heaving, but Mr. Howlett was shouting for Moira to call the police while grabbing a girl from the college’s rugby team as well as a lanky guy known for carrying a ton of Swiss Army knives with him all the time. They were probably off to apprehend the troublemakers in front of the building. 

Eyes still glassy and unfocused, Charles didn’t move an inch. Erik resumed dabbing at his nose with the retrieved Kleenex, only managing to smear the blood about so Charles’ face looked even more like the victim of an axe murderer. Alright, maybe Erik’s hands were shaking just a little. But hey, his  _ baseline human _ boyfriend had just revealed  _ extensive telepathic powers _ , what was he supposed to do? 

Keep calm, that is, as to not disturb Charles further. He could sense the human-become-mutant prodding at his mind’s edges again. 

“Alright, okay, they’re down!” Moira exclaimed from her position on the windowsill. “Aaand… they’ve separated them! Logan has his claws out, no need to worry about fisticuffs anymore, we’re good, everything’s under control! Man, what just happened?” 

“You hear that, Charles?” Erik stroked his boyfriend’s bloodstained cheek with the back of his even bloodier hand. “It’s alright Charles. You can let go of them.” 

Charles did. Like a string puppet cut loose, he mirrored the three figures clad in black outside and slumped in his seat. Erik barely had the time to steady him before having to let him slide onto the floor gently. 

When he tucked his boyfriend in against his chest, the telepath’s face was as white as freshly fallen snow, and his eyes stared back at Erik’s as though he’d never opened them before. 

“Holy shit,” Mora whispered as she glanced over Erik’s shoulder. 

Before, Charles’ eyes had been of a washed-out denim blue, not quite dull but also not quite remarkable. 

This had changed. Now, his irises were glistening like the deep sky on a clear summer afternoon. 

With shaky hands, the now-very-obviously-a-mutant clutched at Erik’s sweater, trying to pull himself into an upright position. He remained eerily silent, didn’t utter a word, didn’t even moan. Still, everyone who was present felt they weren’t alone with their thoughts. 

After Erik helped Charles sit up, he decided he had to do something. Charles was giving everybody second-hand nausea and a throbbing headache, which might have been caused by all the voices suddenly drowning Charles’ own thoughts and not at all helping him to control his power. Emma had told Erik on every possible occasion about her mutant manifestation, he understood that a newly expressed high-level telepath was about as helpless as a baby deer and about as dangerous as a scared lion simultaneously on steroids and on crack. 

So, he went for soothing murmuring. “Calm down, Charles. Calm your mind.” He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple. “I’m here, I’ve got you. You’re not alone, Liebling… I love you,” he added in a very low voice. 

Reality began to sink in, and with it the knowledge that Charles’ brain might have taken more than just a bit of damage from the whole sudden telepathy ordeal. 

“What is-”  _ What’s happening to me? _ “Erik, all those people are like candles in-” 

“Shh.” Erik pulled Charles as close as physically possible, getting blood all over his clothes, but hell knew he didn’t care. Maybe putting his hands over Charles’ ears would help, maybe it would shield him from the worst. None of the assholes in the classroom were helping, what was their deal? Reduce them to a cowering mess, shouting at them to do something, that was what Erik wanted to do. Shit, he was starting to panic. 

_ I don’t want them in my head. _ “Please.”  _ Get them out, make them go away, I’m begging you.  _

He had to get a grip on himself, and on this situation. Charles needed him, medical help (possibly) and a quiet, isolated place (most definitely). 

First, he had to get his boyfriend to stand. He hooked his hands under Charles’ armpits. “Schatz, I need you to calm down. Come on, up you go.” Finally, the newbie in telepathy got his legs under his body so Erik could grip him by the hips to steady him. “Gut so.” Now, rational thoughts, don’t give him time to panic. “Look, it seems your mutation is expressing. Telepathic powers, I’d say.” 

They got as far as three steps until Charles had processed the words and gripped Erik’s sweater even harder. “But- How-” He shook his head, again and again. “No. I’m a baseline. An ordinary human.  _ I don’t have powers! _ ” 

Great. His nose was beginning to leak blood again. Neither Mama Xavier nor the janitor would be excited about this mess. 

“You do now, Charles,” Erik retorted. “Now let’s get you to the nurse before you make scrambled eggs out of everyone’s brains. I’ll lead the way?” 

Charles nodded groggily. 

*

Half an hour later, they were sat on a cot in the nurse’s room, the suppressants in Charles’ bloodstream effectively dampening his unexpected gift to a bearable level. Slumped back into Erik’s lap, pliant like beeswax, he’d regained some colour. 

“Yes, mother. I will prepare accordingly.” His hair was tickling Erik’s throat, but the latter didn’t mind. “Thank you very much. I’ll meet you outside at 5 o’clock, then.” 

With a sigh, he put down his phone and rubbed his head against Erik’s chin, just like a cat would. “She wants to take me to a doctor, one that’s specialised on mutants. To, uh, try and send my X-gene back to sleep.” 

That called for Erik’s best flat look. “She wants you to get rid of your mutation? Is she for real?” He sat up straight to look Charles in the eyes. “It’s a gift, not a curse! It’s not a sickness that has to be cured!” 

“I know, Erik. I know…” Charles rubbed a hand up and down his face, his eyes watery, his brows drawn together. “But aren’t you just a tad bit scared of me because-”  _ because I can do this _ , he finished in Erik’s head.  _ Inside  _ the part of his very being Erik had never shared with anybody before, bei Gott, the intimacy made him shudder. 

His boyfriend was the most amazing human he’d ever met and would ever meet. 

“Am I?” A tiny smile made its way onto Charles’ lips. 

“Now and always. Mutant or not, human or not,  _ you’re special to me _ , Charles.” Erik leaned forward to dust a flurry of butterfly kisses over his telepath’s cheeks, underlining his words. “You’re still you. You haven’t changed, not much, not significantly.” Doubt radiated off Charles, leaden like a dark winter’s day. “And neither have my feelings for you.” 

At first, Charles didn’t reply. Then, finally, he leaned in and pulled Erik into a hug. “I’m so bloody lucky to have you,” he sniffled somewhere beneath Erik’s chin. 

Erik’s thoughts were already off in another direction, though. “Whatever they tell you, don’t let them put an inhibitor on you. Just imagine what we could do with your and my power combined.” He infused his voice with the lewdest grin he could manage. “And I’m not only talking about the mutant cause.” Some explicit images sent via mindlink and a spontaneous scalp massage should do the rest, so Erik started burying his hands in Charles auburn locks. 

“Erik,” Charles hissed, but made no effort to pull away, “I have to be outside with mother in ten minutes.” 

“You’re an omega-level, Schatz, just this afternoon, you froze half of the campus.” Erik’s lips continued their journey downwards to mouth at that gorgeously pale neck. “Don’t pretend you can’t change your mother’s perception of time with barely a thought.” 

The new mutant pulled away for good. “I didn’t need the reminder.” 

Sometimes, Erik’s boyfriend could be so complicated. “You’re exaggerating. What, so now you’re a telepath? Big deal. Stop- “ 

“I never asked for this power, for this responsibility, Erik!” Charles’ shoulders stiffened under Erik’s grasp. “I’m not meaning to be mutantphobic, but you’ve had your abilities for years! I’m scared, and I don’t want to hurt anybody, but  _ you saw  _ what happened today.” Before he could start tugging at his hair, Erik caught his boyfriend’s hands. “You don’t understand!” 

The telepathy must have fried some circuits in Charles’ brain or something. Erik had never heard him make a more inconsiderate remark, and that was saying something. 

“I do, don’t you dare think I don’t!” Gottverdammt, Erik hadn’t planned for this to result in an argument, but here they were. “What do you think I felt like when I first manifested? Huh?” When Charles wouldn’t look at him, he grabbed his jaw as firm as a vice and brought his face so close to the telepath’s that their breaths mingled. “ _ I was terrified _ .” 

Tears were veiling Charles’ brilliantly blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Erik. Please, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

For some seconds, Erik decided to let his boyfriend suffer and just stared. 

Then, “Of course, you didn’t. But you always said you wanted to change something, the world. Now, you have the possibility, the power to do just that. You’re so powerful, Charles, we don’t even know the full extent of your powers yet. Just embrace them, they’re a part of you now. Don’t let anyone bend you into someone you’re not. Don’t hide away.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “Come with me instead.” 

The first tear fell. Charles didn’t say anything. 

Erik let go of his boyfriend’s stubbly chin and spread his arms invitingly, and when Charles let himself fall forward, he breathed out a quiet, relieved “Oof.” 

They remained in each other’s arms like that for what felt like a small eternity but probably were just, like, three minutes. 

“You’ve got  _ me _ , Charles. I won’t leave. And the others, they’ll be glad to help you get to know your mutation when you’ve already done so much for us.” He slotted Charles’ head in its usual place under his chin. 

“Are you sure?”  _ What will they think? That I’ve lied to them about not having any powers? You know I’ve expressed late, and unusually so.  _

“Besser spät als nie. They’ll understand that you’re just a Spätzünder. A late bloomer.” 

Charles hand slid under Erik’s sweater, then pulled his undershirt from his pants’ waistband. “They will?” 

“Yes.” He wasn’t sure anymore if the tangled flood of  _ warmsafesuspiciouslove _ making his synapses go nuts was being emitted from Charles’ or his mind or from both. 

His telepath’s grin tickled his throat. “And you’ll stay? With me?” Charles asked, slightly out of breath from nipping at Erik’s collarbone. 

“I will. You could make me, you know.” At Charles’ raised eyebrow, he tutted. “But don’t think I’m scared of what you can do. Even if you seem to be a natural.” 

Charles beamed up at him while raking his hands over Erik’s chest and nipples. 

“Well, I think- “  _ I’ll be able to live with that. Now, five minutes, just you and me?  _

_ Yes. Five minutes, just you and me. And then we conquer the world.  _

**Author's Note:**

> If you have still spotted inaccuracies (be it grammar or just content that's disturbing you), please tell me in a comment!  
Otherwise, thank you for reading :)


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